I want to know the truth. My grandfather entrusted me with this secret not so I could hide it back in the archive.»
Dinara looked at him with respect.
«Then we’ll go tomorrow. But we’ll be careful.»
After dinner, they drove to the hotel. It was a modest but clean establishment in the city center. Dinara helped Alexei check in and accompanied him to his room. At the door, she hesitated, as if wanting to say something but changed her mind.
«I’ll pick you up tomorrow at seven in the morning,» she said. «Be ready.»
«Thank you again,» Alexei replied. «For everything.»
She nodded and turned to leave but suddenly stopped and looked at him over her shoulder.
«You know, I’m glad you came. Despite everything.»
With these words, she left, leaving Alexei at his room door with the feeling that tomorrow would change everything.
Inside, the room proved simple but comfortable. Alexei locked the door and, for good measure, propped a chair against it. Then he took out the medallion and placed it on the bedside table. The silver disc gleamed in the lamplight, as if winking at him.
«What are you hiding?» Alexei thought, looking at the ancient artifact. «And is the solution worth the dangers it might bring?»
But he already knew the answer. He hadn’t come here to turn back. Tomorrow they would head to Issyk-Kul, and perhaps the secret preserved for centuries would finally be revealed.
Alexei lay down on the bed, fully clothed, and closed his eyes. Sleep was long in coming, and when it finally arrived, he dreamed of labyrinths of underground caves filled with water, and an ancient monk who persistently told him something in an unfamiliar language, pointing to a silver medallion hanging around his neck.
Chapter 3: The Pursuit
Dinara pulled up to the hotel at exactly seven in the morning. Alexei was already waiting at the entrance with a small backpack. He had slept poorly, plagued by strange dreams, and looked somewhat disheveled. However, the anticipation of the journey to the lake gave him energy.
«Good morning,» said Dinara, opening the car door. Today she was dressed in practical clothing – jeans, a plaid shirt, and a light jacket. Her hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail. «Ready for the journey?»
«More than ready,» Alexei replied, tossing his backpack onto the back seat.
Dinara handed him a paper cup of coffee and a paper bag.
«Here. Coffee and meat samsa. A traveler’s breakfast.»
«Thanks,» Alexei smiled, accepting the offering. «You’ve thought of everything.»
«It’s quite a journey,» Dinara shrugged, merging into the morning traffic. «Four hours at best, if there’s no congestion leaving the city.»
They drove in silence for a while. Alexei chewed on the samsa – a flaky pastry with meat filling – and watched as Bishkek gradually gave way to suburbs and then rural countryside. In the distance, the mountain ranges of the Tian Shan were visible, shrouded in morning mist.
«Tell me,» Alexei finally broke the silence, «what do you know about this Karabaev?»
Dinara gave him a quick glance.
«Not as much as I’d like. In the ’90s, he started with a small business, then somehow gained control of several gold mines. Now he’s one of the wealthiest men in the country, has connections in the government, finances cultural projects.» She hesitated. «But rumors suggest he made his first millions smuggling antiquities to Europe and China.»
«And he’s interested in the archaeology of Issyk-Kul?»
«Not just interested. Obsessed with it.» Dinara changed lanes, overtaking a slowly crawling truck. «For the past five years, he’s been financing expeditions, bringing in foreign specialists, building a collection of artifacts. They say there’s an entire museum in his mansion near Cholpon-Ata.»
«Sounds like an enthusiastic collector,» Alexei remarked.
«Perhaps,» Dinara didn’t look convinced. «But my uncle Ermek isn’t impressed with his methods. He says Karabaev is only interested in certain types of artifacts, especially those connected with Nestorians and ancient treasures. He doesn’t care about anything else.»
Alexei pondered this. It could be a simple coincidence, but the fact that a local oligarch was specifically interested in Nestorian artifacts seemed suspicious.
«Do you think he might have somehow learned about the medallion?»
Dinara shrugged.
«I don’t know. But he definitely has connections at our museum. The director regularly dines with him and receives generous donations for ’the development of historical research.»» She made air quotes with her free hand.
They drove onto the highway leading to Issyk-Kul. The road gradually ascended into the mountains. On both sides stretched green meadows, with occasional yurts and flocks of sheep grazing. The scenery became increasingly picturesque.
«How beautiful,» Alexei couldn’t help saying. «Like something from a fairy tale.»
«Yes,» Dinara smiled. «I missed these places when I was studying in St. Petersburg. No matter how many beautiful palaces and parks I saw, nothing compares to our mountains and Issyk-Kul.»
A light nostalgic smile appeared on her face. For a moment, Alexei saw in her the girl he had fallen in love with during their student years – open, dreamy, full of enthusiasm. But the moment quickly passed, and she became composed and slightly detached again.
They passed a road police checkpoint, where Dinara showed some documents, and the officer, after glancing at them, saluted and waved them through. Alexei raised an eyebrow in surprise.
«Museum ID,» Dinara explained. «It provides certain privileges on the roads, especially if you’re heading to the nature reserve.»
After an hour, the road began to wind between mountain slopes, climbing toward a pass. Traffic became less busy. Occasionally, cars or small trucks passed in the opposite direction, but mostly the road was deserted.
Alexei noticed a black SUV in the rearview mirror, following them at some distance. At first, he didn’t pay much attention, but then he noticed: when Dinara reduced speed, the SUV repeated their maneuver. A feeling of unease stirred in his chest.
«Dinara,» he said quietly, «have you noticed that black jeep has been following us for some time now?»
Dinara cast a quick glance in the mirror and tensed slightly.
«I noticed it when we left Bishkek,» she admitted. «But I didn’t want to worry you. It might just be a coincidence.»
«Or it might not be,» Alexei murmured. «Let’s check.»
«How?»
«At the next turn, brake suddenly, as if you’ve seen something on the road. If they also brake without reason, then they’re definitely following us.»
Dinara nodded. A few minutes later, when the road made another turn around a rocky outcrop, she suddenly hit the brakes. The car jerked and stopped. Alexei turned around and through the rear window saw that the black SUV had also braked sharply, maintaining a significant distance from them.
«Well, there we have it,» he said. «It’s not a coincidence.»
Without a word, Dinara started moving again, but now drove noticeably faster.
«Who do you think it could be?» Alexei asked.
«I don’t know for sure,» she answered, gripping the steering wheel tightly. «But I have my suspicions.»
«Karabaev’s people?»
She